Poetry Award

Congratulations to Jane Rigby, 6th year who came 2nd  in the All Ireland 1916 Poetry competition.

jane 4x

Inspired by the centenary of 1916, the Department of Education and Skills launched a number of initiatives and programs to; commemorate 1916, celebrate Ireland in 2016 and imagine Ireland in the future. One of the competitions launched was the Libraries and Post-Primary Schools 1916 Poetry Competition. It invited post-primary students to submit a poem on the wide-ranging topic ‘Your Ireland’. There were many superb entries for this competition in St. Mary's but eventually a school winner had to be selected and sent on to the local library branch. The winner chosen was Jane Rigby, 6P, with her poem "An Tríú Lá de Mhí Bealtaine, 1916". A few weeks after submission we heard back that Jane had been selected as the Kildare entry to the national competition. Her poem will now be assesed by a panel of experts as they narrow the county winners down to eight lucky finalists who will read their poems at the grand final in Dublin Castle in May 2016.


An Tríú Lá de Mhí Bealtaine, 1916

The door creaks open before me,

 And I march.

Head held high,

They will not know my fear.

The grim, grey courtyard surrounds me.

The gravel, the walls, the atmosphere,

All is grey.

So this is where it ends,

The gravel crunches beneath my feet.

For a fleeting moment,

The leaden reality washes over me.

I panic.

I am about to die.

All the things I have never done,

All the people I have never met,

I have lost so many unmade memories.

I am led to the spot of my execution.

My mind races.

“In ainm an Athar agus an Mhic agus an Spioraid Naoimh, Áiméin”.

My last rights over

He is to blindfold me now.

Will it have made any difference?

Will I have died in vain?

As I take my final glimpses of this world,

Of my ashen surroundings,

I think perhaps I was foolish.

I was foolish to think that Patrick Pearse could liberate a nation.

But in that final moment,

As the blindfold is lowered over my eyes,

I look up.

And I spot a tiny pocket of briliant blue

Peeping out from behind the grey, Dublin clouds.

And I know.

I know in my heart.

All goes black.

Éire Abú.


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